


Never Look A Gift Horse

by shewhoguards



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Horses, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7169732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the wedding, an odd gift arrives from Eddis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Look A Gift Horse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plalligator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/gifts).



The horse arrived from Eddis a few weeks after the wedding, accompanied only by a solitary groom and with seemingly no message attached. The stables, somewhat mystified by its arrival, sent an enquiry as to what exactly their majesties wished them to do with such a beast. Certainly horses were known to be a suitable and acceptable wedding gift, but it was traditional to send a matched pair rather than a solitary gelding. Moreover, the type of horse was an oddity in itself. Such a gift between rulers might be expected to be a noble steed but this could hardly be described as such. Small and stocky, its coat was thick and shaggy – better suited for the cool Eddisian climate than to Attolia. In some ways it seemed closer to being a pony than a horse – indeed, Irene wondered whether it was even large enough to carry her. It regarded her patiently as she considered it, wondering what message it was intended to convey.

“Perhaps she considered that by now you would be ready to take a long ride away from your husband,” Ornon suggested, when summoned to try to explain his queen’s intentions. It had been some time since he had needed to share space with Eugenides for any protracted period, and a long morning at court watching the new king apparently enjoying a long doze had left him in a poor temper. A raised eyebrow from Attolia was enough to make him recall who he was speaking to.

“I beg pardon, your Majesty,” he said hastily. “But really, I have no idea what the beast was intended for. Have you tried asking Eugenides? Perhaps it is some kind of private joke.”

*

“Well, I’m not riding it,” Eugenides said when she asked him. He regarded the horse with a considerable lack of enthusiasm. The heavy sigh the horse blew towards him suggested it held its new king in a similar regard. “Horrible things.”

“You can’t possibly be afraid of a horse this size,” Irene said, a hint of incredulity in her voice.

“I’m not afraid of it, I just dislike it,” he retorted. “And I can dislike whatever I want, I’m king. Which means I don’t have to ride any horses I don’t want to.”

Irene resisted the impulse to sigh in exasperation. “I was simply wondering if you knew whether there was any intention behind the gift.”

“I don’t know, have you upset her lately?” Eugenides suggested. “Other than by stealing her favourite cousin?”

 “You stole yourself,” Irene reminded him, although it had occurred to her to wonder whether the horse was some strange form of insult. “And from what I understand, your status as her favourite depended entirely on how much of headache you caused her on any given day. “

He shrugged, poking distractedly through the package of saddle and tack that had arrived with the horse. “I’m not riding it,” he repeated stubbornly. “In fact, unless I’m actually in danger of death, I see no good reason I ever have to ride any horse again. Why don’t you just send it back?”

He would, she knew. In fact, Eugenides being Eugenides, he would probably even get away with it without causing serious insult but Attolia had to work to different, more careful rules.

“I’d suggest my father sent it as a strong hint of what he thinks I’m capable of riding, but he’d just skip to the point and send a riding instructor,” Eugenides continued to grumble to himself. “In fact – aha!” He held up a sealed message, until then hidden in the saddle. “I don’t have to ride it anyway,” he informed her, glee and – was that relief? – in his tone. “It’s addressed solely to you.”

Odder and odder. “Wedding gifts are supposed to be shared,” she pointed out, confusion making her tone sharp.

“In this case I am more than happy to surrender my half to you.” He offered her a cheerfully mocking bow. “Have fun with it, wife. Or send it back. Whichever you prefer.”

“Would it even carry me?” she asked doubtfully, eying the horse again. It seemed very short compared with most in the stables.

Eugenides managed to summon up some patriotic indignation at that. “It’s Eddisian,” he informed her loftily. “Of _course_ it will.”

*

She waited until she was alone to read the message, still bewildered and feeling as though she should expect a trap somewhere. The wax was marked with Eddis’ own seal, although it seemed likely that the queen had not intended the message to be found by anyone other than Eugenides. She noted too that it was addressed to Irene rather than Attolia; an informality that she was not altogether sure she was ready for from the Eddisian queen.

_“Irene,_

_Do you remember telling me how you envied me as a child, escaping on my shaggy little pony while you had no such freedom?_

_There are more suitable horses I could have sent you, but suitable draws eyes and attention and I imagine that you do not need my help for that._

_If I have misread what you need then my groom will happily return with him, and no offence will be taken. However, small as he is, he will go for a day without complaint and no-one will look twice at his rider. Eugenides will be able to assist you in getting out. From there, he will take you wherever you want to go._

_I suggest you call him Freedom. Enjoy him._

_Helen”_

It was ridiculous. Dangerous. Relius and Teleus would be united in horror at the idea of their queen out of the palace without them to protect her. Undoubtedly, it was the gift of a naïve queen who still did not understand what it was to rule in a country filled with enemies.

Still,just for a moment Irene allowed herself to feel how it might be to have a friend who truly understood what it was to be a queen and be watched and who offered an escape. Even for the most powerful person in the country – and perhaps especially for her – there were worse gifts than a horse called Freedom.

 


End file.
